Different Stakes
by Gater101
Summary: OneShot. Maybe life in the Pegasus galaxy wouldn't be so bad after all.


**Title: **Different Stakes  
**Summary: **Maybe life in the Pegasus Galaxy wouldn't be so bad after all.  
**Characters: **John, Teyla  
**Pairing: **John-Teyla  
**Rating: **G  
**Episode: **Poisoning the Well  
**Word Count: **1390

**Different Stakes**

Back on Atlantis, John had retreated to his quarters and proceeded to sit in the darkness, stewing over what had happened on Hoff. His ear piece lay forgotten on the nightstand beside his bed, the P-90 still strapped to his vest. In the control room, he'd stalked off ignoring Elizabeth's startled calls and questions, leaving the others to deal with them instead. Two hours later, still no one had called on his door and he was grateful to whichever one of his team it was that had ordered the others to stay away.

If John was pissed, he couldn't imagine how Carson had to be feeling. Not only had he helped create the drug, he'd grown quite attached to one of the women only to watch her die. John knew doctors took an oath to 'do no harm' and for the Doctor to turn tail and walk away from the disaster that was their mission to Hoff, John knew at least some of how he felt.

He sighed when his stomach growled and when he checked his watch, he realised he'd missed the dinner rush in the mess hall and that any leftovers would need to be scavenged from the large refrigerators. It still perplexed him, the constant thrum in his veins when he wandered through Atlantis. He didn't think he'd ever get over the sensation. He stopped by the armoury, depositing his P-90 in the rack with the others, nodding a greeting to Captain Zarkosi's team before returning to his journey.

In the small kitchen off the mess hall, Teyla was standing over a pot, stirring something that smelled delicious. He contemplated turning around to leave but his feet had carried him over the boundary before his mind could protest. In her traditional Athosian outfit with her hair tumbling down her back, it was easy for John to forget that she was a member of his team. It was difficult to console the woman before him with the woman he had stood side by side with on Hoff only hours before. Gone was official mask, replaced by something more docile yet no more or less serene.

She was an enigma to him. Unlike any of the women he had known back on Earth, her power had not gone to her head. She was a leader but she was fair. She had emotions – powerful emotions – but they did not _control _her. She needed, but not overly much and she knew how much she was needed but she never let it manifest itself in superiority. While she did laugh at their ignorance of Pegasus ways – his mind thought back to the second party they'd had with the Athosians (something about a fire dance, without the fire) and he had to contain his chuckle – she was not mean.

"There is enough food here for two," she said knowingly and John half smirked as he moved to stand beside her at the work top, his back leaning against the solid metal surface, his arms crossed over his chest. She glanced over to him, her knowing smirk evident on her face and John smiled down to her. "I have yet to acclimatise to cooking for only one."

If she was lying, she didn't let on and John didn't call her on it. He was grateful for the show of friendship.

"What is it?" She lifted a jar from the other side and turned it to him, the Dolmio label making him smile. "And here was me thinking you were treating me to some Athosian delicacy."

She quirked her eyebrow at that and smiled coyly before looking away.

"Charin once told the village that I was not to be allowed near the kitchens." She stirred the pot again, adding in a few handfuls of Fusili. "She has yet to retract that order."

John smiled and nodded, letting himself appreciate the candour of the moment. Easiness with others was something that had been absent from his life for a long while – even in the last few years with Nancy, they hadn't been easy with one another – and he was not yet ready to relinquish the unfamiliar but not unwelcome sensation.

He poured some juice into two glasses, asking Teyla if the apple juice was okay for her and a few minutes later, they were seated at the table, chewing happily on their food. The silence was not exactly uncomfortable but neither was it overly so. She asked questions about his family – that he expertly avoided -, about the Air Force and questions about language and history that he couldn't answer. When he'd returned the questions, asking about her gift once again, they lapsed into silence and John thought back to Hoff.

"Would you have done it?"

She looked up then, not entirely startled by the question but surprised none the less. She fiddled with the fork in her hand, pushing the few remaining pieces of pasta around her bowl before setting her fork aside and looking back to him.

"For generations, the people of this galaxy have sought a way to defeat the Wraith." She looked down as John looked up and he almost wished he hadn't asked. But he was interested in her answer; as a non-native, he wasn't sure if his outside views were clouding his judgement. "Any advantage is to be seized if we are to live a life without fear." She trailed off and John raised his eyebrow.

"So you agree with what they did? What they're going to do?"

She sighed heavily, contemplative before she looked back to him again.

"Had the inoculation wielded different results, yes." She looked away. "We have lived a life of fear – for as long as we can remember. The Wraith are no myth, they are in living memory. They destroy all that they come into contact with; they show no mercy. It is time some of us in this galaxy showed that same resolve."

John sat back, astounded. Teyla had been the level headed one of her people when they had desired to leave, offering words of reassurance that even Halling would not hear. To hear her speak to openly, so passionately against the Wraith was... It was eye opening. John thought back to how naive he must have sounded to the people there. He'd lived with the fear of the Wraith for months only, while these people had had their lives torn apart again and again.

He almost regretted his words, not offering to help the Hoffans.

Almost.

"To lose half of the people of this galaxy, to only a handful of Wraith..." She trailed off, her voice pained and John fought with the desire to reach out and touch her hand. "No, I do not agree with what they did, what they plan to do." She shrugged and took a sip of her juice and John mirrored her actions. "But I do not believe it will matter."

He looked up to her at that and frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"Once the Wraith discover what the Hoffans are doing, they will not hesitate in destroying them. There will be no culling – no opportunity to kill any Wraith. They will destroy each and every Hoffan, without mercy."

John nodded. The atmosphere between them was thick with tension and fear, heavy with grim reality. He hated it.

Hated that this was no longer a far away event, it was _his _reality too. A reality of his making. He closed his eyes and sat back for a moment before standing to clear away the plates.

Teyla offered no resistance to his actions and as he washed the plates in the sink, she stood beside him, mirroring his pose from before. Once he'd finished, they made their way out of the room and down the quiet corridors.

"I have yet to train today, Major Sheppard," she said as they made their way to the residential part of the city. "I have an extra set of bantos rods if you would care to join me."

He thought about it for all of two seconds before he nodded, smiling.

"Sure." As he walked away to his quarters to grab his gym gear, he turned and smiled back at her, raising a questioning eyebrow. "What are bantos rods?"

Maybe things in Pegasus weren't going to be that bad, after all.


End file.
